Did I leave writing this post so long that I have in the interim returned to the crushing reality of real life, literally flown to Switzerland & back and once more found myself on the brink of a brand new meltdown? Who knows. Can't say. No evidence to point towards that conclusion. Unless you follow me on social media but it's ALL good I'm here now I'm ready to chat I'm ready to make sure I don't get an entire month behind and ruin everybody's lives! Including my own. Especially my own. I am here to teach (as per always) but I am also popping back to learn from my past self, because one of the primary reasons for my spur of the moment jaunt to Ye Olde Ireland was to remind myself to chill. the fuck. out. And this is something I have once more forgotten.
The springboard for my leap back into functional reality (as opposed to the perpetual cyclone of stress that had enveloped my being) was to consciously uncouple from my phone - most importantly social media and my work emails - and actually be present in my own life. It sounds crazy, I know. Impossible. Irresponsible. But turns out living like a pilgrim has its upsides, and you might just learn some beautiful new truths about yourself and your delicate, overwhelmed soul.
....I obviously used my phone to take these photos but that was actually it.
Otherwise Jake would yell at me.
No one wants that.
One thing I discovered was that my favourite thing in the entire world is hearing Jake say "do you want to go for a drive".
Yes. Yes I do. In the poetic words of modern day philosophers 5SOS, "I wanna get lost and drive forever with ya, talkin' bout nothing yeah whatever, baybeh. So we're taking the long way home". And that is precisely what we did, every single day I was there. (I'm also not exaggerating when I say that song has been perpetually stuck in my head every single day since.) Really though, any time we didn't know what to do we'd just pop in the car and drive aimlessly around the aggressively verdant countryside, and I loved every picturesque nature-smug moment of it. "Nature-smug", FYI, is a really specific kind of pleased with yourself that you can only get when you actually leave your house and go somewhere green.
Innywho, I don't know if it's because I get to play pump up jams and look at scenery, or because whoever I'm with is forced to spend time with/pay attention to me, but either way just chillin' in a car is one of my all time favourite things to do, and if there's anyone I love to force to pay attention to me, it's Jake. So this whole shebang was a bloody ripper of a recipe for success.
One thing I've discovered over the course of my many attempts to write this post is that I am incapable of summarising my time cavorting around the Irish countryside without everything becoming very floral and romanticised. SURPRISE, that's what happens when you're used to living in a perpetual stress prison and then all of a sudden look up and see hills and open space and no people other than Jake & the coffee man and not a single. notification. from Hootsuite. It is quite literally a breath of fresh air (shout out to all my London homies living the respiratory life of a 19th century chimney sweep), genuinely does feel as though you're seeing things with fresh dang eyes and slams your entire life back into perspective, so I don't really know how to go about verbalising my appreciation for that specific moment in time if not through a literal sonnet. I've not written a sonnet of late, so that could actually be a solid option. However, I'm far too tired for iambic pentameter right now, so that little gem of a project will have to wait.
Let's talk about the coffee man. During what I believe was one of our first excursions we passed a caravan selling coffee on the edge of a big ol' hill. "Damn, that looks picturesque," I thought to myself, "and I do love coffee." But we were busy driving aimlessly in a different direction because a bird had told us to (if I started to explain that I would have to explain a lot of other things and it would ultimately paint a very worrying picture of the weird kind of cabin fever/stockholm syndrome Jake & I almost invariably develop when around each other for more than an hour, so I'm gonna leave it) and it was not yet meant to be. We later drove past a second time, and were on our way to go get coffee somewhere else when Jake read my damn mind, said "do you want to go back to that place near the road?" and chucked a tidy U Turn when I realistically straight up shouted 'YES'.
It took about 3 or 4 attempts at actually turning at the right point, but eventually we made it, and dayum was it worth the struggle.
Five things that bring me joy in life:
1. Nature Purp
2. Nice Views
3. Coffee
4. Grilled Cheese
5. Jake When He's In A Good Mood
Connect the dots, bitches. I was living the dream.
I don't know what the heck this guy was putting in his grilled cheese but it was bloody phenom dot com, and the coffee. Don't EVEN get me STARTED. It wasn't Melbourne-level fantastic but it was the first time in recent history that I've actually been there for the taste as much as the caffeine content, and it truly felt like a blessing from above. Says a lot about London that I had to drive to the edge of a remote corner of the Irish hillside to find decent coffee, but beggars truly cannot be choosers y'all.
I frickin love Ireland.
It is very close to the top of my list of Happy Places, and as I am currently nestled gently in a colossal ball of stress I would like to return there ASAP. For now, however, there is still one more post to come about our most substantial accidental road trip, so we have that to look forward to. And cling to. And pretend is still representative of our reality even if we are actually sitting in an office in Mayfair with a half written press release to finish and a heart rate of 9000 thanks to the abundance of Nespresso pods we consumed whilst NOT sitting on the edge of a picturesque hill in the peaceful countryside w our buddy Jeek but it's FINE. I'm FINE. We're all gonna be fine and we'll meet back here for another post very soon. Ok. Try ur best. xo
